Given a Chance
by Truec
Summary: Obi-Wan had a plan when he went off on his own aboard the Death Star. When he found himself face to face with Darth Vader, he abandoned it in favor of making things up as he went along. Even he never expected things to work out so well.
1. In Which Obi-Wan Has a Clever Idea

Obi-Wan stopped short. He had known Anakin, no, _Darth Vader_ , was on the space station. He had expected the Sith lord to stop him from reaching the tractor beam controls. He had fully believed there was no other outcome from this infiltration of the Death Star, no choice but to directly confront has fallen student. And here he was, surprised to see the menacing cloaked and helmeted figure in front of him, red lightsaber glowing in the dim lighting.

"I've been waiting for you, Obi-Wan. We meet again at last." He sounded so different now, Obi-Wan could almost believe this was another man. Anakin had perhaps died rather than serve the Emperor, and Palpatine had found another apprentice to take his place. Foolish thinking of course, Obi-Wan could feel him, dark and hateful and so full of rage toward everything, but that was still Anakin Skywalker. The man who had once been Anakin Skywalker at least.

"The circle is now complete," Vader continued, interrupting Obi-Wan's musing. "When I left you, I was but the learner. Now, I am the master." Even as he spoke authoritatively of having surpassed his old master, Vader still held back, refusing to strike first. Well, somebody had to. There was no getting out of this. He would fight his old student, even though he could not hope to best the Sith cyborg, not after all these years. Mustafar hadn't been an easy fight, and Obi-Wan had had every advantage there.

"Only a master of evil, Anakin," Obi-Wan taunted as he swung his bright blue blade at Vader, unsurprised as it was easily parried, along with his two follow-up strikes.

"That is not my name anymore," for the first time, Vader's voice, mechanically intoned though it was through his ventilator, seemed tinged with emotion. If Obi-Wan didn't know otherwise, he'd think the other man had expressed sorrow at the sound of his name. Anakin, he had really just called him Anakin. Sith took the matter of dropping their birth name in favor of their Sith name seriously, and he had intended to be equally so. Especially as Luke couldn't be allowed to know his father's true fate. Not now, so early in his training, when he was still so vulnerable. But instead, in a moment of… he didn't know what, Anakin's face had appeared over Vader's helmet, and he had spoken without thinking.

The two clashed, again and again and again. Vader was strong, his destroyed human flesh replaced with the best cybernetic replacements available at the time. And Obi-Wan was old, he knew he had aged more than his share in the past nineteen years, battered by loneliness and raw unbridled guilt.

So why hadn't Anakin… why hadn't _Vader_ overpowered him already? Anakin had been the better swordsman by far, before Mustafar. It had been luck, and circumstance, and more anger than a Jedi should feel comfortable allowing himself that had allowed him to best the newly-turned Sith then. And yet, neither was gaining the upper hand here and now. Slash and parry, thrust and parry, deflect into a wall, a constant stream of locking blades. Even if the past nineteen years had been harsher on Vader than himself, Obi-Wan had trouble believing the other man could be fighting this poorly. As if he had heard Obi-Wan's thoughts, Vader taunted his old master again.

"Your powers are weak old man," there was no pride there, no sneering superiority. Vader said it as though he was commenting on the weather. Vader could see that Obi-Wan was only a shadow of his prime, and wasn't afraid to comment on it. It wasn't the Sith's own weakness holding him back. Obi-Wan thought for a brief second about allowing Vader the win, becoming one with the Force, putting himself beyond reach. He could still aid Luke, talking with him through the force as Qui-Gon had tried to do for him during his exile on Tatooine. But it wouldn't be the same as being a proper teacher, and he hated the idea of leaving Luke alone, unguided.

And perhaps… perhaps there was one more option left to him.

"You can't win Anakin," he had thought up a little speech on the way down here, something about becoming 'more powerful than you can possibly imagine'. It was meaningless ultimately, joining with the Force was of great power philosophically, but little in the material world. So he would have to improvise a little. Let the Force guide his words and hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. 'More powerful than you can possibly imagine' was still a viable plan B.

"That name no longer has any meaning for me," Vader protested, and this time the anger and shame were clearer.

"It is the name of your true self," Obi-Wan responded, lowering his blade. "You've only forgotten." He hoped, with all his heart he hoped this would work. He had not seen Vader in nineteen years, the man could have grown to love his position as Palpatine's right hand, the most feared man in the galaxy. But no man who hid his face, his name, his very existence from the galaxy could be truly happy with their circumstances. He had simply never been given a chance to do otherwise. "Come with me Anakin. We can leave this place, leave the Emperor behind."

Anakin stood still. His lightsaber didn't drop a millimeter, but it didn't embed itself in Obi-Wan's unprotected body either. At last, he spoke. "You do not know the power of the Dark Side." It wasn't a threat, or a boast. Anakin was clearly not speaking of his own power, but of the greater dark power that held him bound. "I must obey my Master."

"Search your feelings," Obi-Wan kept pushing. "Your thoughts betray you, Anakin. I feel the good within you. I feel the conflict within you. Let go of your hate. "You haven't been able to bring yourself to kill me, and I don't believe you'll destroy me now." With that, he gambled everything on having gotten through to his wayward pupil. He switched off his lightsaber, and pocketed it.

Time stood still. Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, apprentice to Darth Sidious, ruler of the Galactic Empire, lowered his red lightsaber. And switched it off. "With the tractor beam disabled, nothing is stopping your ship from escaping. Your rebel friends are hiding in the bay, waiting for their chance to make a run for the ship, my son included. You and I will have words about that later. I can try to prevent pursuit, but my authority aboard this station is limited. Tarkin won't take long to send the TIE fighters after us."

Obi-Wan allowed himself a small, tight smile. He had won a victory he never expected to even reach for. Oh, perhaps it was an elaborate ploy. Anakin's mind was shrouded, his thoughts blocked from the older man. But he believed in his pupil. He had faith. Now he just had to convince Luke, Leia, and Han that Anakin was on their side now.


	2. In Which Darth Vader is on Han's Ship

Darth Vader was on his ship.

No, that was still too horrifying to consider. Break it down into smaller pieces.

Darth Vader. Han had never met the man. He had seen him once or twice in the news, and had once desperately hidden in an Imperial admiral's closet while the admiral was brutally murdered by the Sith.

On his ship. His ship, the Millennium Falcon. He was captain, he got to decide who boarded his ship, usually after a negotiated payment. Chewie got a vote. The old man he picked up in that dive back on Tatooine (and that planet was still as much of a dump as ever) shouldn't get a say in it. The kid and the princess certainly didn't get a say, the old guy had shut down their arguments quickly and quietly. But he had talked to Han first, because it was his ship he was bringing Darth Vader aboard.

So now Darth Vader was here. On the Falcon. Sitting on a bench away from the others, not hiding, but definitely not wanting to interact with them. Luke had yelled something about Vader killing his father, and Vader had acknowledged that he had done so. Though Kenobi had muttered something about "from a certain point of view". But that wasn't any of Han's business. He had a Jedi, a farm boy, a princess, and Darth Vader to deliver to the Rebellion.

His business was delivering them to Yavin, getting the remainder of his pay, going back to Tatooine, paying off Jabba, and hoping the Hutt wasn't too vindictive about the whole mess. If he did like he was told, and brought Jabba the money, he would probably be allowed to live, maybe even keep working.

Han looked around the Falcon's cockpit, seeing that, for the time being, he and Chewbacca were alone.

"Hey Chewie, I've heard stories about Jedi. They can make you do things with their Force hocus-pocus. You don't think that old guy…?" He trailed off. It was nonsense really. Magical space knights with mind control powers.

Chewie barked a laugh, then told Han a story about a Jedi Master he'd known during the Clone Wars.

"Yoda, huh? Think I've heard of him," Han mused. "The leader of their order, some kind of Jedi politician then?"

The Wookiee shrugged his massive furry shoulders, he hadn't asked how the Jedi picked their leaders, he had just been happy to have the Jedi and their clone trooper allies fighting alongside him on Kashyyyk. The point was, he explained, while fighting the Separatist forces with Master Yoda, he had seen that mind trick, and a thousand other things Jedi could do. And he was certain that, however shrewd Obi-Wan had been in talking Han into allowing Vader aboard, there had been no element of coercion.

"No mind trick huh? So I'm just crazy enough to let the guy on my ship. Not sure that makes me feel any better pal. I actually let Darth Vader on my ship of my own free will. And I didn't even think about asking for more money for another passenger." Han shook his head, still half in a daze from the day's events. "The hell was I thinking?"

His partner grumbled a little at this. Chewie hated the Empire more than most, having lived as a slave under Imperial rule before Han had freed him. And he could remember the early days of the Empire, when Darth Vader had come to Kashyyyk seeking the Jedi hiding deep in the forests. He had killed many Wookiees himself, had ordered countless more killed. But only those who had joined the resistance against the Empire and sought to stop him from hunting the Jedi, and never civilians or children. No Wookiee would call the Sith Lord friend after what he had done on Kashyyyk, he explained to Han, but Vader had acted with honor, in his own way. Unlike the Imperial commanders who had come after him, who had bombed cities and slaughtered any who tried to escape. That he now turned away from the Emperor was encouraging, as the Empire now possessed one fewer nightmarishly powerful Sith lord with which to threaten the galaxy. Furthermore, Chewie pointed out that Vader had been helpful since he had joined with them.

Han thought on that. The Sith Lord had ordered the stormtroopers guarding the Falcon to stand down and allow them to leave, and had done… something to their communications systems, preventing the troopers from reporting in or receiving instructions. It had bought them time after leaving the Death Star, time enough to jump to light speed without being harried by TIEs. Vader had even mentioned a plan to plant a tracking beacon aboard the Falcon, but that must have fallen through. A thorough search after the jump to hyperspace had revealed nothing added and no sign of tampering anywhere on the ship, and Han knew his baby well enough to see when it had been messed with.

Han was willing to give Vader the benefit of the doubt for now, although he would keep an eye on the armored man whenever he could. A memory flashed through his mind, the voice of an admiral begging for mercy while being slowly choked to death, and the rumor that Vader had been the one to kill him. Han had heard the voice of the man who killed the admiral, deep, mechanically intoned, interspersed with heavy breathing aided by a respirator. He had recognized that same voice upon meeting Vader. Admiral Greelanx hadn't been a friend by any measure, but the actions he had taken, after a sizable bribe, had saved Han's home and friends (and how hard he tried not to think about those friends anymore). Yes, definitely better to keep an eye on the Sith. Maybe he'd leave Chewie to watch the cockpit and head back. Not a bad idea to check on his other passengers either, he didn't need a fight breaking out between Vader and anybody else on his ship.

They were safe enough from the Empire for now, as long as Vader could be trusted not to kill them all. If Han could just keep his passengers from killing each other (not an easy task based on the look Luke had shot Vader as Obi-Wan led him away for 'training'), he could get his pay and forget this bizarre trip had ever happened.


	3. In Which Luke Asks Questions

They'd been in hyperspace for hours now. He had been on the same ship as the man who killed his father for hours. Luke had done his best to distract himself. He'd spent some time talking to Han, marveling at the incredible wonder that the Millennium falcon hid under its shoddy appearance. He'd played holochess with Chewbacca and C-3PO. And now he was training with Obi-Wan again. It was obvious the older man was trying to keep him away from Vader, to keep his mind occupied, but he practiced diligently, wearing the silly helmet with a blast shield to leave him blind, trying to sense attacks from the small drone using the Force, and block them with his lightsaber. His father's lightsaber. And the man who had murdered his father was on this ship. Supposedly they were on the same side now, but Luke wasn't sure he wanted to be on the same side as Darth Vader.

Eventually, Luke got fed up with training, ripping the helmet off and throwing it over his shoulder, where it landed on the training drone. He wheeled around to face Obi-Wan, and froze. Darth Vader was in the room. The doorway at least, having not quite entered. Not casually leaning, the way Han had when he had observed Luke's training before their arrival at the rubble formerly known as Alderaan. Not watching intently, trying to understand Obi-Wan's lectures about the nature of the Force like Leia had when she had stopped in. Vader didn't seem like he could be casual even if he wanted to, and seemed more like he had been watching Luke than listening to Obi-Wan.

The lightsaber had no weight of course, it was made of light. But it felt heavy in his hand all of a sudden. Luke yearned to lunge, to attack the man who had killed his father. He felt the anger deep in his heart surfacing. But fear bubbled up as well. His father had been a fully trained Jedi Knight. He was only a student. An apprentice? Whatever Jedi trainees were called. If they were called anything now. He couldn't hope to kill the monster who had killed his father.

"Ob- Wan told me," he managed to speak, throat tightened but not closed by anger and fear. "He told me you betrayed and murdered my father. You killed Anakin Skywalker." It was half accusation, half plea for information, half desire to be able to stand up to the Sith Lord, even if it was just by being able to speak in his presence.

Vader walked stiffly over to a crate lashed to the floor, and sat on it. As far from Obi-Wan as he could be and still be in the same room. "From a certain point of view, what Obi-Wan has told you is true. I did kill Anakin Skywalker. Though the idea that I betrayed him is ludicrous. Anakin Skywalker betrayed me, and that is why I killed him."

Obi-Wan spoke up. "From another point of view, I suppose that's also true." Which did nothing to abate Luke's confusion. Vader betrayed his father, his father betrayed Vader. What had happened between the two men that had resulted in his father's death? Obi-Wan had said Vader was more machine than man. He had an obvious cybernetic respirator aiding his breathing, and the stiffness of his movements reminded Luke of people he'd met who'd been in terrible accidents, having lost limbs replaced by cybernetic prosthetics. All of Vader's limbs moved with that same stiffness though. Had his father done that to the Sith? He needed to know more!

His questions must have appeared on his face before his mouth opened, because Vader cut him off abruptly. "I will not speak of what occurred. That matter is all but settled now. When the Emperor is dead, it will be settled for good. You may wish to know the details as hard as you want, but you are far better off not knowing."

Luke's rage bubbled up again. Vader had killed his father and was now claiming to act in Luke's own best interest? But again Vader cut him off before he could speak, like his face was an open book. "Your anger does you credit. If you hope to kill the Emperor, if you hope to kill me, you will need that anger. But you must control your fear before you can release your anger. Only your hatred can destroy me."

"No." It was only a monosyllable, but Obi-Wan's presence seemed to fill the room when he said it, the way he had felt at the cantina in Mos Eisley, or when he had gone off alone on the Death Star, an inspiring presence. "You turned to the Dark Side in your lust for greater powers. But I won't let the same happen to Luke. Fear and anger are the path to the Dark Side, to the same fate as yours."

Vader stared at Obi-Wan. Or at least his face was pointing at the older man, the black mask made it impossible to see where his eyes pointed. "You're still an old fool, still holding your students back. He will need the power of the Dark Side. And there are only two fit to teach him to wield that power." He rose from his crate and lumbered out of the room, pausing at the door. "You would do well not to push another student to join Darth Sidious."

Luke debated between chasing after the man to try and get answers from him or try Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had been vague at best about his father and Vader, but that was better than the lack of answers Vader was giving him. "Darth Sidious?"

"The Emperor. Sith Lord's often take new names after they turn to the Dark Side. When Vader left the Jedi and turned to the Dark Side, it was only after the Emperor had been poisoning his mind against the Jedi Order for years. None of us saw it, nobody realized that Chancellor Palpatine could be living such a terrible double life in secret"

Luke filed those facts away for later. He hadn't known that Darth Vader had gone by a different name before betraying his father and his mentor. "So what was all that about a certain point of view?"

The old Jedi leaned forward, looking weary. "It really isn't my story to tell Luke, and I don't have enough of the details to be able to explain it properly."

Luke was nonplussed at the lack of answer. "But you really think we can trust him. We've gone from 'Darth Vader betrayed and murdered your father' to 'Darth Vade is our staunch ally against the Empire'?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "I don't pretend he'll be any great friend to any of us, but Vader has greater reason than most to hate the Emperor. I've heard more than a few rumors, and he's confirmed some for me. I believe Vader may have been planning his betrayal for quite some time. He'll ally with the Rebellion because he can't kill the Emperor alone." He dropped his hands into his lap, crumpling his tunic between his fingers. "As for your father and Vader… you would be better hearing it from him, than what few details I know. Vader may be more right than he realizes. At this point in your training, it would be extremely dangerous to expose you to this. I'm not saying you're a bad person Luke…"

Luke nodded thoughtfully. "… but anger and fear are the path to the Dark Side, you mentioned it before. And I am angry at him, and afraid of him. Should I wait until I'm better trained, and try to ask him then?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "I would recommend it Luke. Vader thinks that true strength comes from the Dark Side, he'll expect little from you if you don't turn. As you become stronger in the Light Side, and I have no doubt that you can, "he smiled a little as he spoke, "you just might surprise him. I think one day, you will be able to get your answers from him."

Luke nodded and walked over to the training drone, pinned to the floor under the added weight of the flight helmet. "Well then, I guess that's enough of a break." Darth Vader had killed his father. Someday, they would have a reckoning. He would find out what had happened between Obi-Wan's pupils. And after that, it wasn't like killing Vader was completely out of the question.


	4. In Which Darth Vader Joins the Alliance

They had arrived at the Rebel base on the fourth moon of Yavin. The faithful little droid R2-D2 had had its critical information payload downloaded to the analysts' systems. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, General, and all around hero of the Clone Wars was here with his new apprentice. Morale should have been at an alltime high.

But Darth Vader was here. Not walking around like he owned the place, but not in a cell, as more than one Rebel had suggested. Some had even suggested holding an immediate trial before executing the Sith Lord for the destruction of Alderaan. An idea that was quickly shot down, for reasons both ethical and practical. Complicit though Vader had been, he had not been in charge of the Death Star. Grand Moff Tarkin had been in command of the station, had given the order to destroy the planet.

Leia had spoken briefly to the Rebel commanders about her observations of Vader. He had captured her aboard the Tantive IV, nearly preventing the Rebel Alliance from receiving the Death Star plans if not for her quick actions in uploading the data to R2-D2's data storage. He had interrogated her about the location of the Rebel base. But he had acted strangely while doing so. She had been afraid, she hated to admit it, but she really had felt afraid when he had arrived in her cell with an Imperial torture droid But he had sent the droid into a corner, and simply stared at her. Unnerving of course, but not the expected torture at all. It felt like hours had passed before he finally asked a question.

"Where have you hidden the stolen Death Star plans?"

She hadn't answered of course, and the Sith had seemed taken back, but recovered quickly.

"The Grand Moff believes I've come here to torture the information from you. A pointless exertion, any fool would realize that whatever strength of will you possess is clearly aided, perhaps by simple discipline, perhaps even discrete cybernetic enhancement. To thwart even my own powers… no, the droid will fare no better. But I suggest you let others believe you've suffered pain beyond imagining while I've been here."

She wanted to ask what he meant, what he hoped to accomplish by sparing her a prolonged and painful interrogation. But his black gloved hand and raised, his fist clenched, and suddenly her body was consumed with pain. Suddenly and briefly, as she quickly passed out.

Upon awakening, her musing on Vader's actions had been cut short by Tarkin's terrible demonstration of the Death Star's power. But she had had little to do on the trip to Yavin but think. And she had realized that Vader had attacked her, used what Master Kenobi referred to as the Dark Side of the Force, to knock her out, creating the illusion that she had been tortured until she could no longer bear it. He had spared her, dooming Alderaan.

But now Vader was on Yavin IV, and the High Command had chosen to allow him to aid the Rebellion. Vader had flat out refused to join, saying he had not come to trade one master's yoke for another, but that he would act as a free agent. Much debate had arisen from his arrogant demands, but after hours of back and forth, a settlement had been reached. Vader had become a signatory to the series of treaties the Rebellions was based upon. In exchange, he would renounce his position as Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet (a position that likely had already been ordered stripped from him), his tutelage under Emperor Palpatine (who would likely kill him if he tried to return), and the Sith title of Darth he had been granted by Palpatine. Obi-Wan Kenobi, who had quickly and unanimously been added to the Alliance High Command, had insisted on the last detail, and for a moment there had been silence at the table. And then Vader spoke.

"The Sith Order had become a memory. Darth Sidious makes a mockery of the teachings and restrictions, following the letter of the laws while forgetting the spirit. There is nothing for me there. I will not take the Emperor's place when he is dead, and I will not become the next Dark Lord of the Sith. I cast aside my birth name when I became Sith, and I will remain Vader for the rest of my days. But the title of Darth is meaningful only to other Sith. And I have no need to be on the same level as Sidious. The Sith teachings have failed me, as the Jedi teachings did before them. And so I will cast them aside."

And really, what could you say to that?

Vader's personal information, what little he was willing to share, went into the Alliance records. Vader, planet of origin Tatootine, 41 standard years old, a widower. That last had sparked Leia's surprise, but the no-longer lord of the Sith had said no more on the subject. He had even submitted to a full medical diagnostic rundown, at least in part to be certain he was the real Vader, and not a clone, a robot, or a surgically altered stand-in (although who would know the difference of the most famous faceless man in the galaxy?) , as well as to determine his actual state of health. Vader's benefits package had included a generous medical plan.

And still, Leia wondered what had caused Vader to abandon the Empire he had served loyally for as long as there had been an Empire. The man seemed to hate the Emperor, blaming him for some unknown grievance, and was willing to join with the Rebellion that days ago he had sought to destroy, all for a chance at killing the Emperor. He claimed to have cast aside the teachings of the Sith, as he had the Jedi, so what was he now? She had read stories of Dark Jedi, Jedi who had given into the Dark Side without becoming a follower of the Sith. Was it appropriate to call him that? What kind of title would that result in, Dark Master Vader? Dark Knight Vader? Dark Vader? Silly pointless nonsense at a time when she needed to be focused.

The Alliance had a key component now, the Death Star plans, and the weak point they showed. They had a Jedi Master, his student, and a Dark Jedi. But they had no plan. The Death Star had to be destroyed, before it could be used to destroy another planet. There could not be another Alderaan.


	5. In Which the Death Star is Coming

The Death Star was coming. Nobody knew how the Imperial forces had learned the base's location, and Vader knew he was clearly suspected by many. Some Rebels had adopted a wait and see approach with the former Sith Lord, but he wasn't going to win any popularity contests among them either. But Vader hadn't tipped off his former allies. He wasn't sure if the Rebels had a mole among them or if some other factor had led to their discovery. Maybe Tarkin had gone behind his back and had a tracking beacon planted after all. Captain Solo had thoroughly searched the ship once Vader had mentioned the possibility, and Vader himself had surreptitiously done so as well. If there had been a beacon, it had been incredibly well hidden. If there hadn't, then there was a traitor to the Alliance among them. A competent opponent was a worrying thing, a traitor among your ranks far worse.

Luckily, the Alliance had the Death Star schematics, a number of fairly brilliant military commanders, a cadre of brave and eager pilots, and Vader. Vader wasn't even willing to consider the idea that any of the Rebel pilots could be his equal, let alone his better. Luke, perhaps, given time and training. Obi-Wan had grown old and rusty, and had never been as good at flying as… the man Vader once was, but he would still be an asset in the fighting to come. And even if the other pilots weren't trained Jedi Masters with hundreds of hours of flight time from the Clone Wars, they could be competent. The same couldn't be said for the TIE pilots on the Death Star, many of whom were recent Academy graduates. Solo had scoffed when Vader mentioned that detail, pointing out that most graduates from the Imperial Naval Academy were lucky to have more than a few hours of experience in a real TIE, and that the simulations didn't compare. And none would have any battle experience at all, aside from those who had participated in the assault on the Tantive IV where he had captured the princess. And there had been no fighters for them to engage in that battle.

Vader had been issued a Rebellion X-Wing, and although he wasn't officially a member of any of the Rebellion squadrons, he would be attached to Red Squadron with the other X-Wings for the upcoming battle. He had turned down the initial offering of a Y-Wing, preferring the faster and more maneuverable ship, despite its lesser armaments. He'd briefly thought about having it painted black before dismissing the idea as nonsense. His enemies would recognize him by his kill count, not his color scheme. The plan was solid, two squadrons attacking the superlaser, hoping to damage it enough to delay firing, while two other squadrons, including Luke and Vader himself, would attack the ventilation shaft. Gold Squadron, flying the more heavily armed Y-Wings, would attack first, in the event of their failure, Red Squadron would move in. Luke was right, it was like trying to shoot womp rats back home. While engaging TIE fighters and evading fire from the defensive turrets placed along the trench.

Vader regretted Captain Solo's departure. The smuggler and his ship would have made a welcome addition to their assault force. But he could understand the younger man's need to return to Tattooine. Paying off debts was important at the best of times, and being in debt to a Hutt clan lord could never be considered the best of times. Luke had seemed disappointed as well, and even Leia had been sad to see the back of the Millennium Falcon, despite her and Han bickering whenever they met. Vader found himself hoping Han and Chewbacca would come back after paying off Jabba. The Rebellion would need every man and ship they could get. The battle to save their base, and their lives, from the Death Star was the most immediate fight of their lives, but it wouldn't be the last. If they survived to see tomorrow, then there would be more fighting to come.

He wondered if the Emperor knew of his betrayal yet. Some among the Imperial forces thought Sidious all-knowing. Foolish nonsense, but foolish nonsense the Lord of the Sith had made an effort to make real. Spies loyal only to Palpatine could be found on most inhabited worlds, infiltrating the most secure organizations. If the Emperor had a spy among the Rebel Alliance, he had never mentioned it to Vader, but the Emperor never mentioned many things to his right hand man. Vader was certain there was even an Imperial Agent among Black Sun, the massive criminal empire run by his self-styled rival, Prince Xizor.

Xizor, leader of Black Sun. Mara Jade, the most highly regarded Emperor's Hand. X1, highly loyal Stormtrooper commander. Any of the Imperial Inquisition or the Prophets of the Dark Side. And any number of other individuals throughout the Empire who were both loyal to the Emperor and Force-sensitive (although Vader only had his suspicions about Xizor). Vader was briefly shocked to consider how many Force-sensitives had been rounded up and trained, on some level or another, as Dark Jedi in Sidious' service. Any of them could take his place at the Emperor's right hand.

More like at his feet, Vader freely admitted he had been more the Sith Lord's faithful hunting pet than any kind of trusted right-hand. A faithful pet that had been defanged and declawed, his artificial limbs and life support system keeping the full brunt of his strength in the Force checked. Luke would surpass him, sooner rather than later. Obi-Wan would be far superior to him if not for his decline over the years. Mara Jade seemed like the Emperor's most likely choice to succeed Vader. A well-trained assassin, skilled in both mundane combat and the use of the Dark Side. She too would surpass him in power. And she would hunt him, hunt Luke, hunt the Rebellion, but Vader most of all. Vader had betrayed the Emperor, and for that crime he would die in front of Sidious, in horrible agony. His former master would allow no other outcome. But worrying about being hunted by Mara Jade, or being stymied from the underworld by Xizor, or any of the countless threats that awaited him would wait. The battle was mere hours away. The Death Star was coming.


	6. In Which Somebody Had to Die

The Death Star was destroyed, nothing left but a gigantic field of debris, some floating through space, some caught in Yavin's gravity and falling, burning in the planet's atmosphere. They had been lucky the station had been so far from Yavin 4, having the debris fall onto the moon would have left it uninhabitable.

Han and Chewie were returning to Tattooine to pay off Jabba. Twenty thousand credits for safe delivery of passengers and rescue of princess, plus a sizable box of treasure. Leia had called him a mercenary, but Luke had pulled her aside and explained, as best as he understood it, Han's little problem with Jabba the Hutt. Han hadn't even known the kid had spied on him when he met the Hutt before their departure.

Luke, Leia, and even Vader had all seemed to fall into place, doing what tasks they could to make the eventual evacuation of the Yavin system run smoothly. Vader had provided a list of systems the Imperial forces believed to be sympathetic to the rebel cause, or even actively hosting Rebel bases. Another list of planets that had been scoured for Rebel activity, and of places he believed they could avoid Imperial detection. Han hoped to be able to help out, once he returned from Tatooine.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was dead.

Han hadn't known the old Jedi for long, and even he felt that the galaxy lost something with his death. He could only imagine how Luke felt. And couldn't even guess what Vader was feeling behind that blank black mask.

Han had returned, prodded both by his own internal conscience and his furry external conscience to help the Rebels rather than run off to Jabba. The Hutt could wait to get his money. He'd arrived in time to shoot a TIE that had been trailing Vader's X-Wing. Then a new ship had appeared, a TIE fighter with stubby curved wings Vader had angrily identified as a TIE Advanced, his own personal fighter aboard the Death Star. Luke had already committed to his run along the trench, and Obi-Wan and Vader had peeled off to engage the faster starfighter, while Han and the Falcon ran interference against the few remaining TIEs. Luke had just successfully launched his proton torpedoes into the Death Star's ventilation shaft when a lucky shot had clipped Obi-Wan's X-Wing. A lucky shot to a rear deflector already pummeled from a long and arduous battle against the near-endless TIE swarms. The X-Wing exploded at the same moment as the Death Star, one small blip of destruction against a fireball the size of a moon, one life snuffed against the hundreds on the station.

But that one life was Obi-Wan. Han could freely admit he had liked the crazy old man, with his hokey religion, archaic weapon, and absolute faith that even a man like Vader could be redeemed. He had talked with Obi Wan, eaten with him on the Falcon, drank with him at the cantina in Mos Eisley. He'd just been another client, another smuggling job, a ticket to getting back into Jabba's good graces, if the Hutt could be said to have any. The old man had grown on him, just as the farmboy, the haughty princess, and even Darth Vader.

And now he was dead. Han didn't know who had piloted the TIE Advanced, whoever it had been had flown like a maniac, a maniac possessed by a demon. He supposed they would never know, the fighter had been caught in a combined burst of fire from both the Falcon and Vader, leaving only a few scorched pieces of space junk to mark the legacy of the man who had killed one of the last Jedi.

Not the last though. Vader had muttered something about a Master Yoda, who had evaded detection or capture for years. The ex-Sith believed Yoda, wherever he could be found, would have his own ways of knowing about Kenobi's death, and said no more on the matter. Maybe he mourned his former master and friend, maybe he scorned him for being weak, maybe he felt guilty for not being able to save him. It was impossible to tell with Vader, who so rarely let his emotions color his voice.

Luke was an easy read of course, devastated at the loss of his mentor, his last link to his father. He had believed Obi-Wan to be the last Jedi, his last chance to learn to become a Jedi like his father before him. And Vader hadn't mentioned Yoda in his or Leia's hearing. Leia had also been saddened by the old Jedi's death. She had briefly spoken at of him at the memorial held for those who had fallen in the battle, the stories her father had told her of the legendary General Kenobi, hero of the Clone Wars. Apparently she was adopted, Obi-Wan had brought her to her new family, but she never learned about her birth parents. She too had lost a link with Obi-Wan's death. But more than lost links to the past, the man himself, the wise, tranquil, great man that was Obi-Wan Kenobi, was dead.

Han had wanted to stick around with the Rebellion for a while. Not join up of course, that wasn't his style, but at least help with the evacuation when the time came. But Vader had intercepted him, and pointed out that the Rebel forces wouldn't be abandoning Yavin anytime soon, and he still had a debt to an angry Hutt. Han would be a greater ally to the Rebellion without bounty hunters chasing after him because Jabba got impatient. Han had been forced to agree, and had informed the high command of his intent to skip the Imperial blockade of the Yavin system, return to Tattooine, and pay off Jabba. General Dodonna had seemed surprised, but claimed Han's plan was both wise and cautious, and that the Rebellion would be glad to have whatever aid he could provide upon his return.

So now Han and Chewie prepared to make landfall on Tatooine, which was still a dump and he had been happy to see it behind him when they left only a few weeks earlier. His payment for delivering his passengers, including one thoroughly rescued princess, was more than sufficient to pay Jabba what he owed him, plus the extra fifteen percent he had promised for the delay. Maybe throw another ten percent on top of that, Jabba was the impatient sort and Han really didn't want to be fed to whichever carnivorous pet the Hutt had taken a liking to this month.


	7. In Which Luke and Vader Lock Blades

They weren't friends.

A lot of people seemed to think that was the case. Just because Luke spent time with Vader once in a while, sometimes, possibly more often than anybody else in the Rebellion, that didn't make them friends. Luke was tired of people giving him messages to pass on to Vader, borrowed items passed back to Vader through him, people trying to convince him to convince Vader of any number of inane ideas. They did the same with Han and Leia, but Han and Leia were his friends. Vader… Vader was Vader.

He had only started talking to Vader after seeing the older man practicing with his lightsaber one day, hidden away in a forgotten storage area in whichever temporary Rebel base among the dozens they had gone through in the past two years they had been in. Luke hadn't wanted to be interested. Ben had gotten him started training with his lightsaber and the Force, and he could work out the rest himself. He didn't need to pay any attention to Vader. No matter how impressive his moves were.

The ex-Sith moved slowly, but clearly placed great care in every movement, not wasting a single motion, and swinging with devastating power. He had mastered his form in two decades of hunting Jedi for the Emperor. Luke had advantages, youth, agility, not being weighed down by heavy artificial limbs, life support equipment, and armor, but he knew Vader outclassed him, and that he could learn something from the older man. He was a resource, a training aid. Not a friend, certainly not a teacher. He was no Ben Kenobi, and said so himself one day, after a grueling session ending in nearly two minutes of locked sabers.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi was a naïve man. Foolish, optimistic, and he missed important details. He tried his best, I'm certain, but he had little faith in his own ability. Throughout his time teaching me… and your father," and Luke hadn't missed the brief pause, Vader never spoke about Anakin Skywalker, and often left the room if pressed, but the ex-Sith carried on. "He was never certain about his teaching abilities. I suspect he believed, right up until the end, that he thought he had fallen short, comparing himself to his own master. I suppose you wouldn't have heard of Master Qui-Gon?"

Luke could only shake his head. This stream of consciousness rambling was the most he had ever heard from Vader. The man had killed his father, had been a tool of the Emperor for years… but he was now Luke's only remaining link to his father and Ben. And he was interested in hearing about the Jedi who has taught the great General Kenobi.

"I met Qui-Gon when I was a boy, a slave working in a junk shop on Tattooine." If Luke looked shocked at the admission that he and Vader were from the same planet, or that Vader had once been a slave (a part of his home world's history Luke had been never enjoyed learning) Vader didn't mention it. "Master Qui-Gon won my freedom… me and your father both. He wanted to teach us, after Obi-Wan passed the trials and became a Jedi Knight. He died, fighting an enemy he knew had to be defeated, doing what he believed was right."

Luke knew there had to be more to that story, but didn't push the older man. Vader was getting to something with this, and he wanted to know.

"Obi-Wan never thought he was as good a master to me… or your father, as Qui-Gon would have been. I'm sure he spent these past years in hiding berating himself for it, thinking I would never have fallen to the Dark Side if Qui-Gon had trained me. Thinking that Anakin Skywalker would still be among us if anybody other than Obi-Wan Kenobi had been involved. But I made my own choices Luke".

He toyed with his lightsaber as he spoke. Luke had never seen Vader fidget, or be anything other than a perfectly still sentinel, or a seamless juggernaut of destruction. Fidgeting made the other man seem… more human?

"Once upon a time, I blamed Obi-Wan for everything that had gone wrong in my life. I was certain he had turned against me. I believed the poison Sidious whispered in my ear, and I became the man you see now. I killed Anakin Skywalker, I fought and tried to kill the Master I loved like a brother, I slaughtered children in the Jedi Temple in the name of a vague promise I never should have believed. I slaughtered Jedi across the galaxy because I believed I had no other path to follow but the one I had chosen. The path I chose, you understand. Not Obi-Wan. He was the bravest man I ever knew, my brother in all but blood, and I cast him aside for empty promises. He was easily as great a Jedi as Qui-Gon, and I hope the old man told him so himself when he joined the Force."

Vader turned on his heel to leave the cargo storage area they had been training in, and was halfway to the door before Luke found his voice.

"The rumor going around is that you lost your legs fighting a powerful Jedi years ago. I was so sure it was my father… but it was Ben, wasn't it?"

Vader turned back, and inclined his head.

"He hated himself for it, I have no doubt. He spent that whole fight trying to get me to turn away from my decision, to come back with him. Once he knew I couldn't be swayed, he did his best to stop me as swiftly as he could. I had always been the better swordsman between the two of us, but Obi-Wan bested me. I used all the power the Dark Side granted me, at the height of my strength. All the rage and fear and fear of a lifetime of slavery and war. And Obi-Wan, his peace shattered, his knowledge doubted, his state of serenity completely upended… he still defeated me. He was the better man that day. If he wasn't such a naïve fool… if he wasn't such a good man, I would have died on Mustafar. "

Luke had to ask, now, while Vader was in what passed for a chatty mood. "And what about my father?"

"Your father…" Vader had trailed off, but hadn't walked away yet. Luke gave the older man time to speak. "Your father was not the better man, and that is why he died. I can never hope to measure up to Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon, but he fell short of the mark just as surely as I did. And that is why he died."

And he was out the door before Luke could figure out whether to be enraged, inquisitive, or just confused.


	8. In Which Jabba is Paid Extra

Vader had joined the Rebellion.

Everybody knew about it, had heard about it from everybody else. The rumor was that Imperial Security was on a rampage trying to find the original source of the information, to no avail. It was as though every person on Imperial Center had just learned about it. The news had spread everywhere from Corellia to Dantooine. Humans knew, Hutts knew, Wookiees and Devaronians and Bothans and Trandoshans and Rodians all knew. Everybody had heard that Vader had abandoned the Empire, and then the new weapon, the starship that had destroyed Alderaan, had been destroyed.

That was the equally surprising news that had become common knowledge so quickly. Of course Vader could have been the one to destroy the Death Star, or Obi-Wan Kenobi, the traitorous Jedi and former general of the Clone Wars, whose death the Emperor had made a grand speech for all the galaxy to hear in celebration. But they hadn't, and Kenobi had in fact died in that battle. But the word was that another Jedi had joined the Rebellion with Kenobi, a young man by the name of Skywalker.

Boba Fett remembered a Jedi named Skywalker. Years ago, when he had tried and failed so many times to avenge his father's murder. That Skywalker had killed Mace Windu where he had never been able to. Most of the galaxy believed Anakin Skywalker had died at the end of the Clone Wars. There were few who could link him to the Empire at all, much less identify him as the man inside Darth Vader's armor. Fett knew it was no coincidence that Darth Vader's former mentor and a boy from his homeworld with his name both happened to join the rebellion at the same time as the dark lord himself had. Word on the streets of Tatooine had placed Skywalker and Kenobi at Chalmun's Cantina, talking to Han Solo, before fighting broke out between them and Imperial Stormtroopers. Likely Solo had been hired for a charter, the smuggler would have certainly been desperate enough for credits, with Jabba ready to get serious about getting his payment, one way or another.

Would have been, that is. Somehow, the smuggler had come through. The tidy sum he had owed Jabba for lost product, plus a sizable percentage as a late fee, and even a little extra for the inconvenience of Greedo's death. Jabba had been so shocked when Solo and Chewbacca had arrived on Tatooine ready to pay up, no games, tricks, or pleading involved, the Hutt hadn't even thought to haggle over the late fee. He had even offered Solo his old job back, but the smuggler had refused. Claimed he had work elsewhere that needed to be finished, to make things even. Jabba had just laughed that creepy booming Hutt laugh and let the pair go, saying the offer would remain on the table, however long it took Solo to finish his work with the Rebellion (and even Fett hadn't realized that, the Hutt's intelligence gathering could be surprisingly efficient). The Hutt lord had sent the smugglers back to their Rebel employers with a slimy slap on the back and an equally slimy holocube.

After the smugglers had left, Jabba had, uncharacteristically, ordered his throne room cleared. No sycophants, no dancers, no majordomo. The Hutt had clearly decided to spend some time in deep thought before ordering Fett back in some hours later. Not to arrange a bounty, as had been the arrangement when Fett had arrived on Tatooine that morning (Solo's bounty, to be precise, before Solo had shown up at the last possible second), but to have a conversation. Jabba understood Basic, and Boba Fett could understand Huttese. They could converse sufficiently without the need for an interpreter, the least of the many reasons Jabba retained Boba Fett's services so often.

"Bounty hunter, I know you've worked often for the Imperial forces, both taking bounties and other mercenary work. Tell me, what are your thoughts regarding the Empire?"

Fett hadn't struggled to find words. It wasn't a difficult concept for him to explain.

"The Empire is the lawful government. Rampantly corrupt and morally bankrupt, to be certain, but order is maintained throughout the galaxy. However distasteful it may be, the alternative of total anarchy is totally unacceptable."

"The immoral and unforgiving Empire or anarchy, are those the only two options you see?" Jabba waved Fett to a chair, one of a pair that hadn't existed on any of Fett's previous visits. Had not been in that room at all, in fact, before Solo's arrival. Solo was one of the Hutt lord's favorites, and had clearly earned favor again with his courage in coming to Jabba, and more importantly, bringing the money.

"You might be too young to remember things before the Empire Fett, but the Republic maintained order well enough. Perhaps rather harsh on honest businessmen like myself," and here the Hutt released another of his booming chuckles, one that even Fett almost felt like joining in with, "but business for my mine and the other Hutt clans was as smooth then as now. Did you know Fett that my clan has worked with the Rebels in the past?"

Fett knew, his frequent work for the Empire gave him access to many Imperial data sources. More to the point, he had been there at the time, collecting a bounty. "You financed an attack by the Rebellion's Red Hand Squadron against your rivals. Besadii's spice refining operation on Ylesia was wiped out, and the processed and raw spice, the slaves, and a sizable haul of valuable artifacts were all seized."

Jabba sighed, a great gurgling sound. Or it might have been a belch, it was hard to tell with Hutts. "I've always believed, as I was taught by my uncle, that the Hutt clans have no place taking sides in conflicts between lesser sentients". It wasn't hard for Fett to ignore the slight, he had worked for Hutts enough times to ignore it by this point. "Getting involved in the short term for quick gain is acceptable, of course, but taking sides in such a matter would be bad business. And yet, I feel, somewhere deep inside, that given a choice between a return to the Republic, or something like it, as the Rebels wish to achieve, or remaining in the tightening grip of the Emperor… neither is good for business, but Desilijic can ride out a change in regime."

"You wish to side with the Rebellion". Fett was unimpressed. Some sentients made decisions based on right or wrong, Hutts chose what they felt was best for them. But a question still remained unanswered. "Why am I here? Surely you don't intend to pay me to act as a sounding board. You've decided to let Solo live, so I can only assume you have another target for me."

The Hutt had already paid him of course, five thousand credits to make himself available at Jabba's palace for the day. It was an arrangement they had used before. The bounty on Solo would have been many times that amount, but that was out now. Was the Hutt going to propose a bounty on somebody within the Imperial power structure? Several names had floating around as possible successors to Darth Vader. Fett was a hunter first and foremost, and would gladly test himself against any being in the galaxy short of Palpatine himself, although that certainly would be a magnificent hunt. If the Hutt named a target, and an appropriate price, he would make it happen. There was a woman, Mara Jade, the Emperor's personal assassin, one rumored to take Vader's place. He would enjoy such a hunt against a worthy adversary. If the Hutt said Palpatine's name, he would even consider taking such a hunt, but the price would be exorbitant.

"A specific target? Nothing so mundane this time bounty hunter. I wish to pay you to join the rebel alliance."

Boba Fett was certainly not stunned at this revelation. He merely kept silent to prompt the Hutt lord to explain further.

"I must know more about this 'Alliance to Restore the Republic'. A true return to the Republic of old, the current Imperial government with a new head, or something new? I will lend my considerable assets to the Rebel cause if I can be certain that my business concerns will not suffer under their yoke. It isn't something I could merely ask them, of course. Which is why I wish to pay you to join them, get close to them, learn about them. The common men who form their forces, their leaders, the standouts like Skywalker, and Vader."

Fett's eye twitched at the thought. The Rebels were anarchists who were trying to bring down the legitimate authorities, and bring back the times when a boy could lose his father to a Jedi in the blink of an eye. But they considered themselves the moral victors, and would never dream of allowing Jabba's criminal activities under the new order they promised would be such a great improvement over the Empire.

"I'm not sure the Rebels would have either of us. You're a major crime lord, and I'm Boba Fett." It was a simple but true fact, people hired Boba Fett, but nobody wanted to keep him around. A natural consequence of being the most successful living bounty hunter in Imperial space.

"How I will arrange my alliance with the Rebels is none of your concern hunter. And as for you, certainly we can't just have the notorious bounty hunter Boba Fett joining the Rebellion, nobody would believe it. But I have a cunning plan."

Fett didn't like the sound of that. And he couldn't make heads or tails of the look on Jabba's face, but decided that he didn't like the look anyway.

A bounty on the Emperor was starting to seem like a tempting idea. Still, he had the option to refuse the Hutt's employment offer. And even if he accepted, besides the exorbitant fee he would demand for such a ridiculous charade, he would gain information, which, for the right price, he could arrange for the Empire to possess. Boba Fett was a businessman too, after all.


	9. In Which Vader Knows Things

Hoth was a cold planet with absolutely no redeeming qualities. Nobody in their right mind would ever want to go there, live there, or even look at the planet.

That in itself was something of a redeeming quality if you were trying to hide a massively outmanned and outgunned rebellion from a galaxy spanning empire. But that didn't make Han like being here. Some smugglers enjoyed operating out of places no sane being would go, barren rocks, asteroid fields, floating ice balls. But Han had always preferred civilized society when not in the void of space. Hoth didn't agree with him.

Han almost wished he had an excuse to leave, just for a while. But Jabba was long since paid off. The Hutt hadn't even really been angry with his formerly favorite pilot. The matter was settled, and no more bounty hunters would be coming for Han on Jabba's dime. Jabba had talked about giving Han back his job, even saying the deal would stay on the table if he decided to split from the rebellion later, but Han ha d doubted the Hutt's sincerity. Odds were, if he went asking now, he wouldn't be getting anymore work from the Hutt either, or any of his underlings. Han Solo had been persona non grata to Jabba's organization once the bounty went out, and he had been done with them. That kind of breach of trust couldn't be abided. With no lucrative piloting job for the biggest crime boss in the Outer Rim, he had nothing to gain by leaving the rebellion.

Of course, it wasn't all roses and sunshine here. The princess was tweaked at him again. That was unsurprising, he'd gone out of his way to tweak her. Witty banter was all well and good, but Han wanted Leia at arm's length for now. They argued, he riled her up and she shot him down, but Han was a man of the galaxy, he could see where this was going, and he wasn't ready for that yet, no matter how attractive he found the younger woman. Not yet. Leia was a good deal younger than him, and for all her fire and fury and ideals and political upbringing, was unexperienced in dealing with people on a personal level. And he was keeping her confused. He didn't want her angry with him, leastaways not too angry, but he didn't want her thinking she could tie him down. Not yet.

Even if he was willing to leave, his wings were clipped. Chewie had torn down the Falcon's central lifters, grumbling something about stripped bits. Han loved his ship more dearly than anything in the galaxy, but there were times he cursed every previous owner, even Lando. Maybe especially Lando, the gambler had been responsible for more than his fair share of the Falcon's more esoteric alterations.

So here he was, storming through the halls of Echo Base, wondering where he could scrounge up a plastifibe agitator and a macrofuser on short notice, dodging past maintenance workers and droids, wondering if Leia would stay angry at him, he certainly didn't want her too angry, bumping into Vader—

Whoops.

"Sorry about that," he offered the ex-Sith as he steadied himself with a hand on the wall. He had walked right into the man coming around a corner. Vader didn't even seem unbalanced, maybe his mechanical legs were just that sturdy, or maybe it was that Force Vader and Luke were always on about. You'd think that would have prevented him from being walked into in the first place.

Advantage to a full face concealing mask, he had no idea what Vader was thinking, if he was angry, or found Han's distraction amusing, or even hungry. Well, Han knew a thing or two about reading people, and could see signs even without seeing the older man's face, Vader was clearly worried about something. Far be it from Han to pry into another being's business, especially Vader's, but he was expected to be a responsible officer, so he had to at least ask.

"Hey, is something up? You seem distracted," was the best opening he had. It was best to be direct with Vader, the ex-Sith absolutely hated dissembling.

The black helmet, with its caricature of a face looming in the questionable lighting of the lower halls, turned toward him. "Commander Skywalker has not returned to base yet."

Han pondered that. He had returned well over an hour ago, and night was falling, making this miserable ice ball even colder. Luke should have been back from investigating his meteor by now. "Are you certain, maybe he came in by the other entrance?"

That facemask stared into him. "Skywalker has not returned to base. I… was concerned for his welfare, and then Princess Leia inquired about him. He has not returned, and I sense…" The helmet turned, looking at a wall, looking past the wall at something only Vader could see. "I believe Commander Skywalker is in danger."

"No kidding." Han had to agree. Luke was out there, on Hoth, at twilight, during a snowstorm. "The speeders probably aren't ready, we'll have to take the tauntauns out.

Vader looked back at him. "I've already requisitioned a pair of fresh mounts and equipment, the deck officer will have them prepared for us by the time we get back up."

That settled the matter pretty handily. The tauntauns would probably die before they got out very far, but they would never cover any distance at all on foot. Han had a rough idea of where Luke should be, had his route and his last statements over the commlink about the meteor he had wanted to investigate. And Vader knew things. Han still questioned the validity of an all-encompassing and guiding Force, but he had to admit the older man often knew things he shouldn't possibly know about. And Luke was getting good at it too. He was too young to remember much before the Clone Wars, but he knew the Jedi had been considered powerful beyond the limits of living beings. Even without the media hype, there was clearly something to that.


	10. In Which Leia Exposits in Hyperspace

NOTE: If you recently received a notice of a new chapter, and are wondering why you're seeing the previous chapter 9 here, the new chapter is chapter 9 now, and this is now chapter 10.

So here Leia was on the Millenium Falcon again, running from the Imperial forces. On the run, again. Two years spent searching for a location so well-hidden the Empire couldn't hope to reach them, narrowly escaping time and time again. One year spent in the repurposed smugglers' hideout on Hoth, the icy cold armpit of the galaxy. And then there had been strange transmissions, an Imperial probe droid, AT walkers, and the base was lost. Even if they had been miraculously able to fight the Imperial force to the last man (Vader had off-handedly pointed out that the fleet's flagship was the Executor, formerly his to command as leader of the Imperial armed forces), the base's only real selling point was being hidden, and that was gone.

So the Rebels packed up and left. There had been a battle of course, there were always battles to delay the Imperial advance while the base was packed, scoured for clues, cleansed of anything that could be useful to the Empire. And then they left.

So it was Leia, C-3P0, and Chewbacca. And Han, and she wasn't prepared to think about being alone with him. Alone except for the paranoid droid and the walking rug. Nope, not prepared for that line of thought.

Luke was safer to think about, except she had kissed him in the infirmary, a few days back. It was meant to… to be something, but mostly just felt kind of gross. She should have kissed the Wookie. Or Vader. No, definitely the Wookie.

Vader had said something odd in his last transmission, following close behind Luke as the two had left Hoth with their X-Wings. He had passed along a message that they would be delayed regrouping with the Rebel forces, and would try to catch up. But first they had to pay a visit to somebody. Vader was cryptic at the best of times, and Leia would have pressed him for more information, if not for the ongoing evacuation. He and Luke had been spending a surprising amount of time together recently, between lightsaber sparring and drilling with Rogue Squadron. Never any social interaction, barely any interaction at all outside of those activities really. Leia wasn't worried about Luke, Vader was fairly solidly attached to the Rebellion by now, had he intended to betray them outright, it was long past time. And nobody took the idea of Vader as a spy seriously anymore. The former Darth was many things; inconspicuous was not among them

And he had helped save Luke's life on Hoth. Vader and Han had gone out looking when Luke failed to return from patrol, and had dragged the more than half-frozen Jedi back to Echo Base. Leia and Han had monopolized Luke during his recovery, but she knew Vader had visited him.

She'd checked the security logs.

Oddly, Vader had chosen to visit Luke only at times when the young Skywalker was asleep. He would stand over Luke's bed for several minutes, and then leave. But once, the security recorders had picked up a frustratingly cryptic bit of mumbling.

"On Dagobah all this time. Yoda was always crafty, it makes sense"

Leia knew that name from history lessons. The good ones she'd had with her father, not the appropriate Imperial sanctioned lessons her tutors had provided. Bail Organa's daughter could never be taught any lessons that might be considered subversive, after all. But her father had told her of Yoda, the Jedi Master who had led their order, and General Obi-Wan Kenobi, and other heroes of the Clone Wars. The Jedi pogrom following the fall of the Republic had officially killed every Jedi in Imperial space. Executed as traitors, officially. The official story claimed that Palpatine's ruined face, scarred and ravaged, was due to an assassination attempt at the hands of a number of Jedi Masters. She had mentioned that in Vader's hearing once, he had snorted loudly though his breathing apparatus and muttered something about lightning and lightsabers as he passed.

And that wasn't the only odd thing about Vader. Really, once you became accustomed enough to the man's presence in the same building as you to stop being terrified, he was a strange man, one given to spending most of his time outside of meetings with the High Command in unused storage rooms. If it wasn't lightsaber practice with Luke, then it was meditation. She had once walked in on him, while looking for Han to berate him for his sloppily filled out paperwork, and had been shocked to see the ex-dark lord with his helmet removed. She had caught only a short glimpse of a bald, scarred head before yelping out "Sorry!" and leaving. It had felt wrong to see him so exposed, especially when he clearly was going to such lengths to avoid being seen. Or sometimes he would take a droid or speeder, damaged to the point of being on the scrap parts pile, into a room, and come out with a functional piece of machinery. The engineers and mechanics were convinced that Vader had Force machine repairing powers, one particularly brave young man had even begged the Sith to make him his apprentice. Vader hadn't dignified that with a response.

And now Vader was with Luke, and neither of them were here, or with the fleet. The galaxy was a big place, and a quick visit could mean anywhere. But she remembered the snippet of captured audio, in which Vader had mentioned Dagobah. There were stories about that place, and not pleasant ones. It was the kind of planet the Emperor might build a summer home on. But she trusted Vader, at least enough not to believe that after all this time he had at last decided to bring Luke to the Emperor. Maybe they were going to Dagobah, maybe they were going to see the legendary Master Yoda. If Obi-Wan Kenobi could have stayed alive on Tatooine for two decades (before dying less than two weeks after joining the Rebellion), who was to say Yoda couldn't be alive and hiding on Dagobah. The best hiding places were the ones nobody wanted to look in.

The rest of the Rebel forces were hopefully already at the rendezvous point, expecting them any time. They would be delayed with the Falcon's hyperdrive out of order. But Han had a friend in a nearby system, one the crippled Falcon could barely limp to. The ship would be repaired and they would catch up with the fleet. And Luke and Vader might be back by then, if they were really going to Dagobah, it wasn't the sort of place anybody willingly spent long periods of time on.


	11. In Which Luke Does Not Whine

It's not that Luke wasn't used to not being sure what was going on. He'd had plenty of time to adjust to that being his normal state of consciousness. One day he had been a moisture farmer, not allowed to leave home, certainly not to go off to the Imperial Academy. Turns out that had actually been for the best, Uncle Owen had clearly had his best interests in mind, but he would never be able to tell him so. Owen had clearly not wanted Luke to suffer his father's fate, had tried to keep him safe by keeping him away from the Empire in general and especially from Vader.

And now here he was, trudging through a swamp. This whole world was a swamp, Dagobah was clearly even further away from the bright center of the universe he had joked about than Tatooine ever was. It had been over an hour since they had landed. Well, Vader had landed, Luke had gotten his X-Wing stuck in a swamp. To Vader's credit, the older man had offered to lift the stranded fighter, although he had tried to get Luke to do it first. As if that was ever going to happen. Lifting something as big as an X-Wing might be possible for the recently retired Dark Lord of the Sith, but Luke was barely able to lift his own lightsaber. Except for maybe that one time on Hoth, the bits he could remember besides Ben telling him to go to Dagobah seemed to indicate that he'd successfully pulled his lightsaber to him while hanging in a cave. But his ship was obviously completely out of the question, and he'd told Vader so. There was no way this was going to turn into another of Vader's strange but enlightening, if infrequent, lessons in how to use the Force to achieve his desires.

Then that strange little alien had appeared. Small, green, furry, and crazy. But he'd known the name Yoda before Luke had even mentioned it, and had offered to lead them to him. Well, offered to lead Luke, the funny alien had never even acknowledged Vader. Probably scared, even standing still, the armored man was more than a little intimidating. And leading might have been a little strong of a word, the little green being was perched on Luke's back, directing him on the nearly invisible foot trails through the swamp. Best case scenario, Jedi Master Yoda really was here on Dagobah, maybe these people (if there were others of the species, Luke hadn't actually seen them yet) were sheltering him. Worst case… well, a trap seemed unlikely. Luke himself had gotten pretty good at sensing people's intentions, and nobody ever got one over on Vader. Worst case then… could Yoda be dead? Could the little green guy be leading them to a grave?

Well, not a trap, not a grave, but he hadn't led them to Yoda either. It seemed they had entered the green alien's home, a low structure built into a hill. Just in time, it had been getting dark, and then started raining, but Luke hated the delay. He needed to meet Yoda, find out why Ben had sent him to Dagobah to find the Jedi. The faster he could get this sorted, the faster he and Vader could return to his friends and the Rebellion. At least the alien, whatever his name was (Luke had asked, but the strange being had always avoided the question) had offered them a meal. A good meal too, much better than the rations he had been expecting to eat this evening. And somehow, they had gotten into talking about why Luke wanted to be a Jedi.

"Mostly because of my father, I guess."

Originally, he'd had a half-baked idea about training to become a Jedi Master (which obviously would only take a few months) and then avenging his father by killing Vader. Then Vader had joined the Rebellion, which had left him a bit conflicted. Ben had sat him down, not long before the Death Star, and said that trying to seek revenge wasn't the right thing to do, not morally, and not as a Jedi, and that the story was more complicated than he had initially told it. Luke had tried to get him to explain that, but the old man had put him off. And then died. Vader was probably the only person in the galaxy who could tell him what he wanted to know, but it wasn't the sort of thing Luke could just ask about. But he still wanted to be a Jedi, like his father before him, that much was at least true.

"Ah, your father. Powerful Jedi was he, powerful Jedi, mmm," the little creature muttered before taking another bite of soup.

Now that was just silly, how could this little green alien from the smelly end of nowhere have known his father? Luke was about to open his mouth and ask that very question when Vader spoke up, for the first time since the green being had approached them.

"Not powerful enough. Never as much as he needed for his goal. Trying to gain enough power to make up for his weakness ruined his life." The masked man never looked up from his soup (which he was clearly somehow able to eat through his mask) but his statement seemed to fill the room with tension, talking about Luke's father clearly made him angry. Good to know. But sitting around, eating and chatting with the locals, wasn't getting him anywhere, and he was losing his patience.

"Oh, I don't know what I'm doing here! We're wasting our time," he stated as he rose, ready to go find Yoda on his own if he had too.

That seemed to change everything. The tension of Vader's anger seemed to just slide away, and Luke's impatience was casually ignored as the green man's face took on a serious cast for the first time. "I cannot teach him. The boy has no patience," he snapped.

"Oh no, the galaxy might end if the wise and powerful Master Yoda actually had to take on a difficult student for once," Luke heard Vader mumble. But… that couldn't be right. Then this crazy little green creature was…

That was when things got strange, as a familiar form stepped into the room from… nowhere.

"He will learn patience," Ben, or at least Ben's glowy blue outline, stated it as an absolute fact.

"Hmmm. Much anger in him, like his father," Yoda retorted, and it was clear that Ben's appearance was no surprise to him at least.

Vader let out a snort of what might have been laughter. It was a sound Luke had heard a few times, so it didn't surprise him.

"Oh yes Master Yoda, please regale us with what an expert you are on Anakin Skywalker. You clearly knew him very well, and were an excellent judge of character," Luke had heard the older man's biting sarcasm before, but this sounded almost… petulant? From Vader?

Yoda's gaze dug into Vader, not the armored man's hot rage, but a cool and passionless study. "My decision it was, with the council, that Skywalker not be trained," he stated. Luke felt like a giant hand had clenched his chest, he couldn't have spoken up if he'd been able to think of anything to say to that. 'They didn't want my father to be a Jedi…', but Yoda kept speaking. "Master Qui-Gon Jinn's decision it was, to train Skywalker, and Obi-Wan's decision, to take your training on when his master no longer could, we questioned, but accepted his faith in his master we did. Whether we chose correctly, I know not."

Obi-Wan spoke up again, trying to defuse tensions between the two. "Neither of them, nor Luke, are any more angry or troubling than I was when you taught me in the temple, or when I became Qui-Gon's padawan."

Yoda paced the small room, smaller with two grown men and the ghost of a third filling it, muttering under his breath, before coming to a stop with a sharp exhalation of breath. "He is not ready."

That hurt. Yoda hadn't wanted Luke's father to be a Jedi, and now he didn't want Luke either? "Yoda! I am ready! I can be a Jedi! Ben, Vader, tell him!" He jumped up to try and plead his case, but hit his head on the ceiling.

Vader only looked at him, as if pointing out that Yoda was unlikely to take his word for it, and motioned for him to sit back down. Luke did, and listened as Yoda went off on a diatribe about his hundreds of years spent training Jedi, and knowing best who to train, and how he had been watching Luke for a long time. He wanted to object, but it sounded like Yoda actually knew him pretty well. He'd spent his youth craving excitement and adventure, and if that meant he wasn't fit to be a Jedi… maybe Yoda was right.

"And he is reckless!" the green man finished.

"At which point did recklessness stop being a common trait among the Jedi? I seem to recall every Jedi I've ever met being reckless, including several Masters on the council," Vader pointed out. It was downright strange to hear Vader trying to support Luke's desire to be a Jedi, after all the times the older man had tried to convince him of their foolishness. Except… honestly Vader had only ever complained and called out Yoda, Obi-Wan, and the Jedi council, he had never had much to say about Jedi in general. Maybe he just had problems with authority.

"I was as reckless as he is, if you'll remember. Well into my knighthood, if we're being honest," Obi-Wan's ghostly form pointed out.

Yoda seemed to be running out of arguments, maybe even coming around to the idea, but he stubbornly persisted.

"He is too old. Yes, too old to begin the training."

"Too old to be molded into another cog in the well-oiled temple machine, but I don't really see where that's a problem anymore," Vader muttered, staring… not at Obi-Wan, but at something only he could see, perhaps drifting through an old memory. And definitely not helping, his words only seemed to make the smaller man seem more determined. This was not the time to let whatever problem Vader had with the Jedi get in the way.

"But I've learned so much," Luke wasn't whining, he really wasn't, but he had to try and bring Yoda around.

Yoda had begun pacing again, before coming to a stop in front of Obi-Wan. "Will he finish what he begins?"

"I won't fail you! I'm not afraid," Luke stated, and even stood up as if trying to emphasize his willingness to do whatever it took. No matter how difficult the training Yoda had in mind was, he had learned under Ben to sense blaster bolts with the Force, and gone blade to blade with Vader. Nothing this demented little green troll had could frighten him.

Yoda only stared at him, and as he spoke Vader chimed in with him. "You will be."


	12. In Which Vader Tries to Understand

Vader didn't know what Yoda hoped to accomplish, sending Luke into that cave. This whole planet resonated in the dark side, and the cave could be felt even against that background resonance. But he old master was adamant that this would aid in Luke's education, and Luke had progressed more in the days they'd spent on Dagobah than in the years since Obi-Wan's death. It was clear that, unless Luke turned to the dark side himself (an undesirable outcome, such a turn would leave him far too open to Darth Sidious' influence), Vader could not teach him about the Force. Lightsaber drills, styles, and sparring, certainly, but the Force was far more than a lightsaber and some fancy party tricks.

So Vader meditated outside Yoda's home, chasing away the demonic feeling of Dagobah with the demons from his own mind.

 _Peace is a lie, there is only passion…_

The Jedi Code had never appealed to him, not as Anakin Skywalker, the Padawan, not as a Jedi Knight, not as Darth Vader, the Dark Lord of the Sith, and not now. Pushing his emotions aside was an utterly alien sensation, and trying to damp down his passions and act with perfect Jedi serenity had been impossible as a child, and only grew more difficult with time. Qui-Gon seemed to have some kind of perfect serenity already built into him by the time they met, but he had tried to help the young boy he had been understand. Obi-Wan had tried his hardest to help his student and friend and brother understand…

In retrospect, Sidious hadn't been a very good teacher. Oh sure, Vader had learned so much from the man, but painful object lessons weren't necessarily a strong educational foundation. He was certainly no Qui-Gon, who had always been eager to share his knowledge with an inquisitive young boy. He wasn't even up to the level of Obi-Wan—oof, flashback to Mustafar, trying to blame the older man for all the problems caused by his own foolishness, that still hurt quite a bit to think back on. "From my point of view, the Jedi are evil"? Where had he even been going with that line of thought? "Jedi are evil, so killing children before they become Jedi is good"?

 _Through passion, I gain strength…_

Vader was no stranger to pain, and he could work through this. He would work through this.

Okay, so believing Palpatine, turning against his teacher/friend/brother and the entire Jedi order, it was a horrible mistake, the worst he'd ever made in a lifetime of making mistakes that usually worked out in the end. Throwing away everything he had, in pursuit of power… it was a very Sith thing to do.

Sidious had talked about the Sith, a lot, without ever actually talking about them. He talked about the power the ancient Sith Emperor's had wielded, and the might of their armies and armadas and their glorious empires across history, and how he would have that glory for himself. And never bothered to actually explain what he was talking about. Vader was a busy man, but ever while he'd been zig-zagging the galaxy hunting down Jedi, he'd still had downtime. As a child slave, Anakin Skywalker had had a keen talent for finding the exact book he would need for whatever he wanted to learn, so as to not spend more time reading than he had to, thus avoiding angering Watto. As a Padawan and Jedi Knight, he had honed that skill still further in the great archives of the Jedi Temple. And so he still could as Vader. Palpatine's "great library" was another monument to his ego, but it was still one of the greatest troves of Jedi and Sith lore in the galaxy. In fact, Palpatine himself was the only person who could legally possess such material. And he never bothered to keep a close eye on what Vader was reading, it wasn't relevant to him, and would do nothing to break his grip on the younger man.

 _Through strength, I gain power…_

So Vader had taught himself about the ancient Sith, and the old Republic. Some large portion of his mind, the new being that was Darth Vader, loyal apprentice to Darth Sidious (that loyalty hadn't lasted very long), sought the knowledge to aid his master in achieving his goals, and in securing some small measure of the resulting power for himself. Some smaller part of him, something that was still Anakin Skywalker, that was usually kicked back into the darkest corner of his mind, loved stories of adventure, and there were plenty of those. There were dry tomes of history. There were tales recorded by Jedi Masters, by Sith Lords, and one book in particular, ancient beyond measure but preserved through some means, perhaps by the very will of its author, written by a man who had been both.

Vader had found in the writings of Darth Revan a sort of kindred spirit. A man who had made his mistakes, and had found his way back. But Vader wasn't interested in becoming a Jedi again, and didn't believe he ever could be Anakin Skywalker again. Nor would he be Sidious's puppet, a loyal apprentice without the power to overcome his master.

 _Through power, I gain victory…_

The rule of two, a Sith principle he had found fascinating, didn't seem to apply to their relationship. Palpatine himself maintained a cadre of unofficial apprentices, his Hands and Inquisitors, any of whom would have given an arm for the official position Vader held. Vader himself had even trained an apprentice of his own, though Starkiller had been nothing like Ahsoka—and there was that pain again. Another time, best keep to one mental struggle with his past at a time.

Sidious would be horrified at the idea of his apprentice actually becoming strong enough to overcome him, of course. One of the reasons the old man kept Vader around was to keep him on his toes, of course, but they both knew Vader could never actually beat him. Anakin Skywalker, in time, could have, another fact they were both aware of, but Vader had lost more than his legs on Mustafar. His armor, a "gift" from his dark master, had kept him alive all these years, and in perpetual torment.

He thought he had long ago reached the pinnacle of his ability to use the dark side, fueled by his rage and pain and hatred (for Obi-Wan, for Sidious, but above all for himself). But since joining the rebels, he had begun to meditate on those ancient Sith principles, sought to be more than his hatred and suffering. The power of the Sith was not hatred, but passion.

 _Through victory, my chains are broken_

It had been his passions that had driven him to Palpatine's side, directly into Sidious' hands, but he had been a young fool, with no control, no vision. He had lost the only person who mattered (even thinking her name would bring more pain than Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and the entire Jedi Order combined, including the younglings he had cut down) because he failed to understand. He had spent years as a slave, more of a slave to Sidious than he had even been under Watto, who had merely owned his body, because he failed to understand. He had to understand his passions if they were to be his power. He had to face the pain from thinking about his past, from thinking about trying to kill Obi-Wan and slaughtering those younglings, and yes, even Padme, and understand how and why. Only when he understood how he reacted to his passion could he master it. With time, time which he might or might not have left, he would master himself, and gain the power to kill the Emperor.

 _The Force shall set me free_


	13. In Which Lando Has No Choice

Lando Calrissian would have greatly preferred more notice before having a major figure, the major figure, the head of the Imperial military, on his station. Honestly, he would have preferred not having the Emperor's newest enforcer here at all, but at least some time to prepare. Rumors abounded about Darth Vader since the former Supreme Commander if the Imperial Military had vanished, most seeming to agree that he had left Imperial service, some suggesting that he had defected to the Rebels, or become a wealthy hermit on a pleasure world in the Corporate Sector. Some believed he had been banished or even executed by the Emperor for some slight. Whatever the real story was, the main point was that Darth Vader was out, and Darth Pedance was in. And the new supreme commander was coming to his city. Now.

Lando had had everything arranged even as he panicked, preparing to make every convenience, amenity, facility, and whatever else Pedance might desire ready to be offered to him at a moments notice. Give him what he wants as quickly as possible, get him out of here as quickly as possible. Lando was a businessman first and foremost, having Imperial forces here was bad for business. And offending the new enforcer could very well be bad for his life. Lando liked his business, and his life.

It seemed like no time at all before the shuttle was landing on one of Cloud City's many shuttle docks. It had been close to a standard hour, as bringing a Star Destroyer into the system, orbiting a largish planetoid on the other side of Bespin's star, (and wasn't the sight of that coming into range absolutely terrifying) and flying a shuttle to the planet itself were not tasks done in the blink of an eye, but fear had a way of making the time jump by. The shuttle was landing, it had landed, it was here, he was here, the ramp was lowering, there were Stormtroopers, of course there were Stormtroopers, an entourage and display of force all in one, and there was Darth Pedance, here, on Lando's floating city. In front of Lando.

Lando had seen Darth Vader once, at some distance, during a business trip to Imperial Center. A few other times in various Imperial propaganda shows. The armored man had been larger than life, constantly brooding and threatening. You could almost see through the armor (and it was said that he was mostly mechanical limbs and burn scars life support systems without it) that he was in a constant state of preparedness, ready to kill whoever he or the Emperor desired, and he was legally permitted to kill almost anybody in the galaxy, on his own authority, answerable only to the Emperor.

This new commander, Darth Pedance, didn't have Vader's sheer size. In fact, he (Lando felt certain it must be a he, few women rose to prominent positions of power in the Empire) stood an inch or two shorter than Lando himself, even allowing for the height of his helmet, a sleeker affair than Vader's, with a perfectly blank faceplate, not even the vaguely human face Vader had favored. All in black of course, black helmet, black mask, open black robe over black tunic and trousers, black boots, black belt with a black lightsaber hanging off of it. The stark, unrelieved black would have been a little comical (Lando was certain he'd seen a similarly dressed villain in a show he'd watched as a child, who had been regularly defeated and sworn he'd get the hero next time over and over again), but Lando wasn't in a laughing mood right now.

Pedance didn't have Vader's looming and brooding. He cut a lithe figure, and seemed to exude energy. If anything, the man seemed downright twitchy. Somehow, that was even scarier, Lando didn't like the idea of a twitchy enforcer within lightsaber range of him, and tried to remember if the stories he'd heard about the Jedi ever mentioned how long a lightsaber was, so he could try to keep at least that far away. Without looking like he was, of course, offending this man might be the last thing he ever did. Lando, in his role as Baron Administrator, was used to greeting powerful and dangerous guests, and managed to smoothly hide his fear behind a mask of rakish charisma, and more than a touch of obsequiousness.

The man simply stared at Lando a solid half minute after his welcome before speaking.

"Lando Calrissian, Baron Administrator of Cloud City for two years, following a host of other careers, some more legal than others," the man spoke quickly, with a touch of the aristocratic accent common to those who lived on Imperial Center, with a touch of something Lando couldn't placed, filtered though a vocoder producing a voice just a tad deeper than Lando's own, rather than the deep booms of Pedance's predecessor, or the tinny sounds the cheaper commonplace vocoders built into Stormtrooper gear. "Your Emperor has need of your services Baron Administrator Calrissian. Should you fulfill his wishes, you will be rewarded. I do not recommend finding out the alternative."

Lando blinked, and suddenly Pedance was no longer at the bottom of his shuttle ramp between his Stormtrooper entourage, but was within mere feet of Lando himself (probably well within lightsaber range, Lando tried not to think about that, or how quickly the man had moved).

"Of course, my lord," was out of his mouth before he could think, not that there was any other response that wouldn't have him learning all about that alternative in great, probably excruciating, detail. "I'll gladly do whatever I can for the Empire, of course. Can I offer you and your men some refreshments while you explain what's required of me?"

The robed man's head tilted, almost appearing puzzled for a second, before straightening and bending in a nod, gesturing with one hand for Lando to lead on and with the other for the entourage to follow. "Your quick acceptance and admirable dedication to duty will be noted Baron Administrator Calrissian. In the days to come the Emperor will have need of dutiful individuals with governing experience… but I get ahead of myself. I will properly inform you on your task in private, but I can tell you in brief that a rebel ship, a freighter called the Millennium Falcon, will be arriving here shortly, carrying rebel passengers you will deliver to me, including..."

Lando listened and nodded and prepared to do everything Pedance said. Han Solo was a jackass who deserved a lot of things, but Lando knew he wouldn't be able to rest easy after delivering his old friend to the dark lord. Still, at least he would be alive to have that uneasy rest. And if Darth Pedance's trap worked and he got that Skywalker kid he was after, Han might even be alive at the end of his. Still, it hurt knowing what he was going to have to do, and Lando knew he wouldn't be able to hold Han's treachery against him, not anymore. Not now, when he was going to do something so much worse.


End file.
